


Effortlessness

by NamparaMyHome (Cormelas)



Series: Betwixt [4]
Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: (1x03), Canon Dialogue, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-29
Updated: 2015-08-29
Packaged: 2018-04-17 20:50:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4681055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cormelas/pseuds/NamparaMyHome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ross was both puzzled and awestruck as he marveled at Demelza seated across his table from him eagerly enjoying their evening meal.  Yes, Demelza.  Not "his kitchen maid" or "his cook" or any other objectifying term.  She was, in his thoughts and feelings, simply Demelza.  When she had anticipated his need for the evening's repast and ale before the words were out of his mouth, he had only one more request that she had not dared to presume - to join him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Effortlessness

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by the estate of Winston Graham, various publishers including but not limited to Pan Macmillan and the BBC.
> 
> Notes: The story occurs between the scenes of the Poldark 2015 episodes as aired on the PBS US broadcasts, which are disappointingly shorter than the BBC episodes. I have not read the books, nor do I know what happens in future episodes when the B/TWS are written. My apologies for inaccuracies based on later canon.
> 
> Title inspired by LillaMyy - Kiitos!

Ross was both puzzled and awestruck as he marveled at Demelza seated across his table from him eagerly enjoying their evening meal.  Yes, Demelza.  Not "his kitchen maid" or "his cook" or any other objectifying term.  She was, in his thoughts and feelings, simply Demelza.  When she had anticipated his need for the evening's repast and ale before the words were out of his mouth, he had only one more request that she had not dared to presume - to join him.

"Have you eaten?" Ross caught Demelza by surprise on her way back to the kitchen.

"I do sometimes forget to, sir."  Demelza looked like a child caught misbehaving. 

"Eat now. Sit."  Ross commanded.  Demelza obeyed as she was obliged to do, but secretly cherished the order.  She timidly made her way to seat herself across from him as he served them both.

It had been a few months since Ross had let his feelings for Demelza get the best of him and they danced and made merry at the wedding of Jim and Jinny Carter.  Perhaps 3 or 4 months?  While the memories of that day replayed themselves often in quiet moments, Ross catching himself with a grin on his face, the days themselves flew by now with the rhythm of work and routine.  It had been a few more weeks before the wedding when Wheal Leisure reopened and Demelza served his benefactors, guests and friends with a sparkle in her eyes.  She had surprised him with her words of appreciation and light-hearted ribbing at her dependence on him.  "My neck's on the line, are you glad about that?" Ross had joked matter-of-factly.  "Oh no, Sir."  Demelza cooed.  "What shall I do if you were to come to grief?" Demelza retorted with a twinkle.  He had to grin at that.

Now they were sitting across the table from one another, speaking of things of importance to their lives. Demelza's work on the lower field, Jinny' visit, their mutual concern for Jim's poaching to support his mother and sisters, all meaningful to them both. This was what Ross was comforted by most in his home, the effortlessness his daily life had become, all thanks to Demelza.  " _This is what makes sense to me.  I do not want to ever have to deal with growing accustomed to another who must do the same for me_."  

Ross watched over his glass as Demelza ate heartily, but she soon became aware of his gaze.  She was caught mid-mouthful with a look that conveyed to him that she was sorry that she was so common and course, but eternally grateful for the life she had been given.  Ross saw the charming shade of pink in her blushing cheeks.

Ross took stock in how happy she had made him feel, not only on the occasion of the Carters' wedding, but in everyday occurrences.  From catching her brushing her hair and humming to herself to seeing her work at her chores, she never complained, was always seeing to his needs, always happily at ease in her place.  Seeing the pride in Demelza's face when he commented on how much he enjoyed something she cooked or baked for him gave Ross a warm feeling he had not felt before.  He searched his memories of the past few years and found himself to be at a high point - the most at ease and least pained since the heartbreak of his agonizing homecoming.

Remembering the past was no longer the distraction it had once been.  Back then the days and weeks taunted Ross as they crawled by, each presenting some new horror for him to endure.  First was the two weeks before Francis and Elizabeth's wedding, the endless toil at Nampara to numb his soul and shake his thoughts from the loss of his love.  Then came the pressure from his Uncle Charles to leave Cornwall.  The necessity to take matters into his own hands and provide for not only himself, but make it possible for his tenants to survive.  His two wretched household dependents did their best to cause him further strife at most every turn.  Offering Demelza a place in his household was his salvation from more than just Prudie's cooking.

Then came the debacle last fall with Francis nearly being killed in a duel that his own love for Verity and her happiness had set in motion.   The one shining spot from that terrible event was it was the catalyst for his resolution that Elizabeth was not worth another moment of his focus.   She had become ensconced in her position as Mrs. Francis Poldark and he could never give to her what she now had, nor would he wish to. He was born and raised at Nampara and only visited Trenwith.  He had not the temperament of being the master of a great house and fulfilling all of the expectations of gentrified society.  Sharing this meal with Demelza was far more his heart's contentment.  And a content heart was something he had not known in many years.  

Ross could now look back with practicality and hindsight.  In his history with Elizabeth, they had only known the fantasies of courtship, the frivolities of youth, and the later-unfulfilled promises of being together.  But had Ross ever considered the realities of what being together meant? Providing for a wife, keeping her in the style of her station, supporting them both by doing something more than playing cards or evading customs officials.  Even during those dreadful days in the Continental Army hospital in Yorktown, when he swam in and out of consciousness clinging to visions of Elizabeth to will himself to survive, the thought of "I must return to her" was his only concern. A "Then what?" never did.

Here now was reality.  A home, a well-enjoyed meal, a feeling of comfort. Elizabeth had been a fantasy of excitement and temptation. Despite her words of adoration, he was foolish to believe them; she was but a girl with none of life's problems and no realization of where life would eventually lead. If Ross had returned sooner and Elizabeth was still waiting, what would he have to offer her as a husband?  Would that have been enough?   Surely Mrs. Chynoweth would have thought no more of him upon returning from America than she did before he left, facing the gallows.  She would have pressured her daughter to see the frivolity of her ways and find a more approriate husband, with more money, more land, more potential.

The "what could have beens" were useless. Here sat a "what is" which was itself currently fraught with questions.  Ross had overheard the gossiping Madames Chynoweth and Teague and been informed by Harris Pascoe of additional such gossip - that he and Demelza were lovers.  The mere suggestion of such indiscretion at the expense of an innocent fueled his anger.  But his ire was not at the idea of the two of them being together. That made utmost sense to Ross.  What angered him was the complete disregard the gossips had for Demelza as a person. He was to be ashamed, but forgiven as being a man. She was chattel without any feeling to carelessly besmirch for their own entertainment.  And they called themselves "ladies."  Ross disgusted himself at the thought. 

When they had finished their meal, Ross went back to his papers and Demelza cleared the dishes and pot back to the kitchen.  He heard the familiar clang and swish of post-meal cleanup.  He knew just how long it took Demelza to finish and for her to come to check on him.  He heard her approach the door from inside the kitchen, and without looking up "Demelza, do we have anymore of that..."

"Brandy, sir?  The last I hid in the cupboard from France?"

"Exactly so."  Ross was dumbfounded.  Demelza sat the decanter and glass in front of Ross, a smile on her lips, and a gleam in her eyes.

"Anythin' else?" she chriped dutifully, ever-present smile on her face, joyfully awaiting his words.

"Yes, if you could somehow avoid the inference that I am utterly predictable."  Ross was sardonic, but Demelza was amused.

"Yes sir." She dared further, "I'll try, sir," and did her best, skirt-holding, deep-knee, and utterly hideous curtsy to pay her master due respect for his snark.

Ross saw the sad spectacle out of the corner of his eye, and only looked up once she had turned to leave the room.  He could not dare look up at her face as he would have heartily laughed at her show of cheek for his benefit, and ruined any clout he had as a master.  Demelza would have giggled in return, and then Ross would have no further ability to keep himself from letting the situation get the better of him.  Her laughter would have driven him to scoop her into his arms and pull her close.  Then they would be in the worst of all positions, face to face, man to woman, heart to heart.

" _Damn it all!_ " Ross scolded himself and tried to focus on work again, but it was pointless.  She'd woven her spell on him again.  This was only becoming more difficult, but he could not bear the thought of making any change to their contractual arrangement.  To Ross, home was where she was, and Nampara was her home now.  But how to share that his need for Demelza went beyond being fed and having his house kept in order? He now had other wants - were those predictable to her, too?  

He would focus on the mine.  When they struck copper, he would hopefully be well set and could then consider how to progress from an employer and kitchen maid to what else, Ross could not foresee. He needed time; time to think, time for the rumors to die down.  But mostly he needed the peace that Demelza's smile brought him.  As she had retired for the evening, all he could do now was hope to see Demelza in a dream.


End file.
